Little Firework
by Bright Yellow Spandex
Summary: In another universe, Hyūga Hanabi is the heiress and the firstborn of the clan head. This changes history like no other. — "This is different, this is real. We're not in a safe-zone anymore, and it's time to step up our game. Let's go, team."


+Little Firework.  
**INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER**

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"Hyūga, Hanabi — class one-a, chunin instructor: Umino, Iruka."

I stood up slowly, blinking. Father gave my now-instructor an appraising look and nodded halfheartedly. It appeared that the man had at least passed some of the more basic tests that Father always had ready. I tucked back loose strands of dark hair behind my ear, my ponytail uncomfortably stretching my scalp. I was supposed to look pristine, and a few dirty looks shot my way by the more bolder Branch members told me I really didn't. A light stain of brown happily rested on my off-white tank top, and my black pants hid a wonderful pattern of grass on my calves. I had never been the type to sit around patiently, and Father detested it; he had dragged me back into my seat—of course, it was in a dignified, elegant manner. He didn't even seem ordinary while doing that, like how most parents would.

Father pointedly looked at me.

I got the message.

_Move, before you embarrass the clan by standing around looking like some unrefined baboon._

Shuffling over—wincing internally at the cold stare that buried into the back of my head (how cheap), I morphed my dragging steps into clean strides. My black shinobi boots crunched on grass, yet they didn't make a sound. I was trained from birth to be noiseless, to be the perfect heiress. Oh, Hinata, poor little Hinata, had not even needing conditioning! She was simply naturally a shy wallflower. Sometimes, I wondered how she would've coped with being… me, with being the next-in-line. Would my little sister crumble under the pressure? Under Father's harsh training? Under the expectations, the will needed, the long hours of classes that made sure I was just perfect in every requirement needed?

Maybe she would have.

Then again, maybe I was underestimating her.

"Hello," I whispered to the blonde standing beside me, trying to be as polite as possible. Manners, etiquette and speech were important factors in making a good impression, and the Hyūga were nothing but excellent at making long-lasting impressions… be it as a snob or prodigy, that fact remained.

The girl curiously glanced at me, big blue eyes widening once she caught my own bland ones.

"Wow, you have weird eyes."

Well, that did wonders for my self-esteem.

"… thank you?"

The girl looked unabashed, smiling widely. "I'm glad you took that as a compliment! My name is Ino." She offered me a hand, expectant.

I awkwardly shook it, not used to physical contact outside of taijutsu sparring. Another rule of the Hyūga house, this one unwritten and to be understood nonverbally, was that touch was a dirty thing. It made you filthy, contaminated, and above all, it was _common._ We… we were far beyond that. We were nobility, and we represented strength.

"Hanabi," I reflected, an unsure smile, purely for the sake of being polite, appearing on my face. It was alien, and my muscles twitched at the strange stretch. "Pleased to meet you, Ino-san."

Ino tilted her head, short blonde locks tickling her fair cheeks. My own skin was a greyish white, unused to the sunlight and too ghostly-looking.

"What's with the formal speech?" she questioned innocently. "Just call me Ino, like everyone else does! Er, except for daddy, he calls me princess because he tells me I'm way too princess like and thus, I totally should be known as one! What does your daddy call you?"

Her abrupt jumble of words made me pause in incredulity for a minute; just how much air did she expel during that short, but fast moment of speech? Was that a bloodline of hers?

"Father addresses me by my given name. Why would he do any different?" I frowned, exasperated at my lack of social knowledge. Truly, the clan had done their best to turn me in the model heiress, but they forgot that I was still yet a child. And children needed to know how to communicate with others their age.

"Because…" Ino bit her lip, fumbling around for a proper explanation. In the background, more names were called and several others joined our line. "Well, because my daddy says it's a sign of affection?"

Affection? When had Father ever shown me or little Hinata any affection?

"I see."

The conversation was ended by Iruka-sensei's call, and our line immediately moved behind him, obedient under our parents' watch—but I knew that I would be the same, even long after Father would leave, for it was simply the way I was raised.

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_Author's Note: Well, well, well. Any suggestions on how I could improve this lousy excuse of a introductory chapter?_


End file.
